


Dying Is No Excuse For Staying Dead

by Paxfacere



Series: Dying Is No Excuse [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Denial of Feelings, Empress Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Feelings Realization, Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, Not Really Character Death, Oblivious Bard, Oblivious Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Pining, Spoilers, Unreliable Narrator, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxfacere/pseuds/Paxfacere
Summary: He can feel that Geralt hasn’t taken his eyes of off him. He sits in front of the fire at the campsite, wearing one of the witcher’s oversized shirts and tearing into their food supplies, devouring anything within reach.„I thought you were dead,“ Geralt says later when the girl has fallen asleep. He can still recognize the tells of Geralt’s body, the way his shoulders tense, his voice tinted in an odd grave hue. He feels guilty.„I was,“ Jaskier chuckles, finding the exchange funny. Geralt is not laughing.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Dying Is No Excuse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895638
Comments: 30
Kudos: 535





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to my newest obsession.  
> I watched the show, then I read the books and then I played the last game. Now I'm writing fanfiction - oh well.
> 
> Anyway, this story grew it's own life and instead of a fluffy three thousand word one-shot it got longer and longer and I decided to split it in multiple parts.
> 
> It follows loosely the story of the game and the books, so beware the spoilers.
> 
> Nothing graphic is described but there is a part where torture is implied. Stay save.
> 
> Also english ist not my first language and it is not Beta'd.  
> Otherwise enjoy :)

~

He is seven when it happens the first time. Julian is fearless and brave for his age - and incredibly bad at estimating danger.

He is climbing the trees in the woods at the backside of his family home, hiding from his father and his tutors. Trying to reach higher and higher but than his hand or his foot slip and the branches breaks with the same sickening crack as his neck. He spends a while lying in the grass staring up at the branches and the green canopy of the trees, dirt and leafs ornamenting his face and clothes.

It's his mother that finds him there, hours later when the sun has already set and the diminishing light makes it hard to see. He hasn’t moved and in his childish view of the world he wonders what dying feels like — nobody to hear his scream as the ground under his feet relents, falling into the uncertainty and only then — a cracking sound resonating through the woods.

Would he stay where he was while the grass overgrows his small body - hiding him from view - looking up at the treetops for all eternity and wondering how he got so high in the first place? But he didn’t die, doesn’t even have a scratch - except for the beating he got later for his vanishing - so it shouldn’t matter.

Yet the fear of dying alone and forgotten stays with him.

~

He is ten when he dies from sickness. Nobody notices that his breathing stops overnight in his sickbed. The next morning the fever breaks, and he feels completely healthy again.

Julian was so out of it that he barely remembers dying between his fever dreams - but being stuck in a bed, not able to move is ultimately not better than dying alone outside, while living trough his adventures.

~

He is thirteen when there is a monster roaming the woods behind Lettenhove. His father hires a witcher, and he spends days anticipating the arrival of the man. He wants to ask him so many questions but his father makes sure Julian stays away from the witcher, threatening him with his fists if he won’t shut up. But Julian is still the same fearless but naive child.

As soon as the witcher ventures into the woods, he follows. In his eyes he sounds like a hero coming to save them - so why does everyone act like he is not better than the monster he came to save them from?

He wants to see the man with the scary swords kill the monster with his own eyes.

Instead the monster finds him first and it _hurts_.

When the witcher notices the boy had followed him and that he is still (or again) alive, Julian's wounds have already closed again. He expects that the witcher will strike him for his insolence, but the man crouches before him and tells him kindly that he is a very stupid but lucky boy.

When he gets returned home he is still covered in so much blood that nobody can tell if it is his own or that of the monster. His father rages at the witcher, blaming him for Julian's insubordination and refusing payment. The witcher takes the rage of his father with a stoic face and Julian knows he will get a really harsh punishment later on. But in his eyes the witcher stays a hero, who protected them from a monster - and could even endure his fathers screams without as much as flinching.

~

He is fourteen when he runs away to Oxenfurt to become a bard. He dies on the way to the city, falling out of the rolling carts, and he dies while looking for the building where he can enroll himself when a loose roof-tile falls on his head.

But his conviction to become a musician - to write songs and immortalize himself trough his music, so he will never be forgotten, lives on.

~

He dies in so many instrument-related deaths that he writes a song about them for one of his classes. His professors are not amused and he fails the assignment. He laughs so much afterwards that he suffocates.

Julian wonders when he had gotten such a morbid sense of humor.

~

He is seventeen when Valdo Marx stabs him behind a bar in Oxenfurt.

He thought they were friends. They shared music and songs, smiles and inside jokes. He drunkenly tries to kiss him thinking that his advances would be reciprocated. Instead, he gets a knife in his rips, told that he is disgusting and realizes later that Marx stole several of his songs.

His other friends find him slumped down in that alley, with way too much blood and torn clothes. He tells them he is fine, its just a scratch - nothing happened, when they drag him back to the dorm, asking questions he doesn’t want to answer. J

ulian learns that not always are his advances welcome, sometimes people will get close to you to use you for their own selfish goals, and he swears to hide that part of him.

He also learns that there is nothing more sobering up than dying.

~

He is thirty-one when he realizes that he hasn’t aged passed the age of barely twenty.

He changes his name to Jaskier and starts traveling, when his never changing looks start questions at the court he is employed. He still dies from horrible wounds and hilarious accidents.

Some things change and some things stay the same.

~

He dies.

He can’t even remember what lead to him being tossed on a chart with more other dead bodies.

He thinks it must have been a vengeful husband. Death is just another fact of his live, like the pretty clothes that he changes into in the morning, and the songs that are always on his lips.

~

He hears word of his father's passing.

He doesn't feel anything at all and at the same time he is overcome with a deep grieve. Just because he can't die, doesn’t mean anyone else can't either.

He likes that reminder and how much it hurts.

~

Jaskier is thirty-eight when he is staying in Blaviken. It’s early in the morning, and he can’t sleep when he hears the commotion from outside the inn he is staying.

He stumbles to the window, and witnesses from the second floor how a witcher slaughters a handful of man and a woman in the marketplace. It's a massacre and pretty horrifying. It's hard to merge his conviction of witcher’s as hero’s and the whole spectacle he just saw.

The tight grip on the windowsill doesn’t lessen, when he notices that the marketplace has filled out and everyone starts to throw stones, while the witcher just… endures it. (Exactly how the witcher he met as a child just endured the screaming of his father, as if it where his fault that Jaskier was a stupid, reckless child.)

He is older and has heard enough rumors now, to know the general view of the monster-hunters. Knows how unfair it is, and that not everything is like what it seems. He wonders if he was met with such resentment everywhere he goes, if he would just… snap at one point. He never told anyone about his gift? curse? — But Jaskier is sure that if it were common knowledge, he would also be treated as some kind of monster.

He also wonders in morbid awe if a witcher that dances with his swords like that would be able to kill him off for good.

~

Jaksier hears stories of the Butcher of Blaviken on and off for years. He does see the witcher sometimes. He is covered in blood or in monster gut, or he is sitting in the backside of a tavern, all the while people call him monster, demon, devil - _evil_.

And yet he takes contact after contact, ignores all the name-calling and the thrown stones, accepts his sentence, endures. He still helps people, saves towns and slays monsters. And Jaskier can see the stiffness in his shoulders, the click of his jaw that the words don’t slide off of him, that he is not as unaffected as he wants the people to believe. The bard is good at observing people, because it's a necessary to keep his secret hidden and for writing his songs. And he is pretty convinced that what he can see in the witcher is _guilt_. 

Jaskier spends so much time with wondering if the witcher feels as lost as he does — he becomes obsessed with the man, yet he never feels brave enough to approach him. 

Some gut instinct tells him that once he does, he will never again be able to walk away. Maybe the thought, when he first laid eyes on Geralt of Rivia - that he will be the one to end him, is true after all.

~

He is barley past fifty when he finally approaches the white haired witcher in Posada. It took him an unfortunate run in with a band of bandits that had too much liking for torturing their victims to death. He is not afraid of him - because what is the worst that he could do to him that Jaskier hadn’t already happened to him.

Geralt is of course dismissive, an eternal loner. But the bard is nothing but determined. He has seen the horrible things human kind has to offer, and how those monsters never showed any kind of remorse.

When obsessing over the witcher, for more than a decade he came to the (maybe still naive) conclusion that he must be a good, kind man, who was dealt a shitty hand. Seeing how ready Geralt is to die at the hands of the elves, if they just let Jaskier go is solid proof for his believes. (He feels an unnamed warmth bloom in his chest.) 

So Jaskier makes Geralt a promise. He will change his reputation. Show the man that he doesn’t have to live that way. And when Geralt doesn’t try too hard to get rid of him, it’s the beginning of a wonderful long-lasting friendship — the best he ever head.

Jaskier just hasn’t decided when he should tell his new friend that he will never be able to get rid of him again, even if he really tried.

~

He plans on telling Geralt after the banquet at Cintra. Geralt, or Destiny or whatever has other ideas.

At least he didn’t die that evening.

Jaskier notices that since sticking around that witcher, for the first time in his life his deaths are kept to a minimum. It is the witcher’s job to make sure other people are unharmed after all.

Jaskier smiles to himself and whistles a happy song while following Geralt who can't leave Cintra fast enough.

~

He dies when a Djinn slashes his throat. It’s not a quick clean death and rather painful, but still not the worst way to go. He wakes up in the morning hours of the next day when his lungs gasp for air, and he feels the tingling in his body that tells him what happened. The witch that had the whole town ensnared is already at his side, eying him curiously.

„What are you? I could feel the life leaking out of you - the Djinn magic prevented me from fully healing you - and yet you are alive and unharmed?“, she asks with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

When he was younger, he thought about asking a sorcerer about his condition. His gut always told him that this was the fastest way to get himself scraped to a table and used for gruesome experiments. Not something he wanted to experience. He is not entirely sure how he managed to stay off the case of any magic users for so long. And he wants to keep it that way.

Jaskier makes a run for it but she is faster. She presses a sharp knife at is throat and then there is only her violet eyes and a building pressure like somebody had smashed his head to pieces - he knows that feeling. She must be shifting trough his memories - and there is nothing he can do to stop her.

„What an interesting thing you are. Now - make your wish.“

She seems satisfied with whatever she saw. At least for now. Jaskier knows that sooner or later she probably will come for him again. He complies quickly, wishing to get out of there. He escapes her clutches but at the same time Geralt is stupid enough to get himself ensnared instead.

Something long forgotten, makes room inside him. The memories of a knife between his rips and a sense of betrayal overcomes him. He brushes the feeling off and decides to get heavily drunk.

~

Ever since the run in with the witch, Geralt is behaving oddly.

Before he was good at not showing too many emotions, despite clearly possessing them. But now it is as if he has so much of them, he doesn’t know how to face them. He is stand-off-ish, he is quick to anger, he is sentimental at the strangest times.

Someday’s he brushes Jaskier’s bangs from his face, when they share a bed to save coin, his lips short of words he just won’t speak out loud.

Other days Jaskier drops the waterskin, and it’s contend spill - or something other clumsy - and Geralt acts like he personaly murderd Roach for the rest of the day.

But it doesn’t matter because once they come across Yennefer, Jaskier just seizes to exist. And Geralt only snaps out of this, when he and the witch have already hurt each other again, and the witcher has spend _weeks_ sulking angrily. 

~

Jaskier is seventy-four when he learns that staying dead and pretending to be dead are after all not the same things. 

The years at Geralt’s side have passed quickly. The witcher has absolutely no sense of time, so its Jaskier’s luck that he never questions his never changing looks. He doesn't know why he never told Geralt his secret, but he is also not trying to hide it exactly. It's just that... Geralt can be rather dense. At least the witcher never mentions anything unnatural happening around the bard.

But it is not important to Jaskier anyway. They are friends and will stick together.

But having a front row seat (again) of the crazy djinn induced sorceress-witcher-fight, Geralt finally decides he is done with him. 

And Jaskier learns that dying from heartbreak, despite feeling like it is, is not something he is capable of. (He never thought loosing your best _friend_ could hurt so much.)

After he climbs down the mountain he is drifting trough towns, having good days, and having bad days. On his worst days he wonders if it truly were a blessing for everyone if he were gone.

And it is on one of these days he lays down somewhere in a remote forest and plans to stay there for a while. At first, he just wants to take a long nap.

Maybe Geralt will have cooled down again, and when they met, he will tell him how much he missed the bard and — Jaskier is laughing brokenly. He is just tired. Most people don’t even reach his age, and maybe the word-weariness that comes with growing old is the reason.

He stays.

The moss on the floor is soft. Over him he can hear the birds sing and the light filters poem worthy trough the canopy. He can stay for as long as he wants. He will not die from hunger and after a while his stomach will get used to the ache and the yearning for food. After all he is no stranger for longing for things that are out of reach. (All he ever wanted was for Geralt to be his _friend_ and care for him too.)

Jaskier thinks back to his childhood, when he fell from the top of a tree. Maybe this time he will stay long enough for the grass to completely cover his body while he stares at the treetops. He can compose, sing for the woods. Maybe he should have died as a child - and now, with him staying in the forests he will bring the world back to its rightful state. 

It is not that anyone else would know how to search for him - or if he is even alive. Being forgotten is still something that makes him uncomfortable - but it's not something he fears anymore. Because what does it matter if he doesn’t stay dead. He can get up any time he wants to meet new people, to write songs that are memorable.

Yes, what does it matter, if the people he wants to remember him, don’t even like him.

Jaskier is seventy-four when he lays down and wants to stay dead for the first time in his life. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and the lovely comments, I appreciate you all <3
> 
> The same warnings as before apply - there is nothing graphic described but there is one scene where a heavy injury is mentioned in an off comment. Stay save.
> 
> Also this is where the spoiler tag becomes important. There will be major events from the books mentioned. You have been warned.
> 
> Moving forward with the story - this is the part where I struggled the most with writing, I hope the pacing isn't to off, and you can understand what I was trying to do.
> 
> Anyway - there will some more Angst and Jaskier acquires something called self-awareness. Have fun ;-)

~

Jaskier is seventy-seven when Geralt finds him in the exact same spot.

He felt the shifting of the seasons, the change in the ground and air - as if he was a part of it all. He froze over in the winter and thaws with the first light of spring. It's already autumn again when he sits up for the first time in a while.

When the witcher tells him later, he finds it hard to grasp that three years have already passed. He is slow to react, his body aches and feels sore. He never thought the witcher would be the one to find him here. If he is honest the counted the days until a wild animal or some bandits would retrieve him from his semi conscious slumber.

Later on he will be glad that the witcher and the princess stumbled upon him (quite literal if he might add), because he was so tired he would have never gotten up again. The girl - the exact mirror of her mother - looks at him with horror and he wonders how he must look to them. Covered in grass and moss, his clothes almost rotting from his body, ripped and ruined, his hair grown long and his stomach is rumbling. He doesn’t look sickly but he can barely stand on his shaky legs, his muscles not used to movement anymore.

He can feel that Geralt hasn’t taken his eyes off him, when he sits in front of the fire at the campsite, wearing one of the witcher's oversized shirts and tearing into their food supplies, devouring anything within reach.

„I thought you were dead“, Geralt says later when the girl has fallen asleep. Jaskier is wight awake, feeling he won't be able to sleep for a couple of weeks after his slumber. He can still recognize the tells of Geralt's body, the way his shoulders tense, his voice tinted in an odd grave hue. He feels guilty.

„I was,“ he chuckles, finding the exchange funny. Geralt is not laughing.

They don’t speak for long. With unused fingers he strums a couple of simple melodies on his lute. Elven made and all, she still looks like the day he got her, and he had a while to compose some new melodies after all.

He wonders if Geralt will apologize for his harsh words - not that it _matters_ to him anymore. Jaskier was angry and hurt — extremely. But while staring at the canopy, he spend a lot of his time thinking about his live and how it led to a point where he wanted to give up everything. Geralt's words may have been cruel - but they were only the last drop so to speak.

Duo to his… affliction, Jaskier realized he had literal decades of unresolved emotional trauma to carry around with him.

Jaskier had to learn early on in live how dangerous it is to let people get too close to him. How another person can cut him down in a way that he can not get up again. Sometimes literal - sometimes emotional. He just has to be better to hide the parts of him that can get hurt, hiding that trust, that wants to give parts of himself to other people so they can use it against him.

He also realized how much power he gave Geralt over him self. He knows what kind of person the witcher is, knew it before he had approached him the first time in Posada. He knows that Geralt acted out in anger at the witch, in anger at himself and that Jaskier was the easier target.

While watching the trees the last years from down below all the hurt and anger and sadness had slowly bled out of Jaskier, leaving him even more exhausted.

Jaskier knew before hand that the witcher is not used to dealing with human relations, and probably hadn’t meant any words he said in anger. Geralt just needed time to cool down, and Jaskier gave him that opportunity when he laid down for three years in the forest. And now they can go back to the way they always have.

So no - he is not angry at Geralt anymore. After all he did this to him self. He never wants to give another person so much power again. He has eternity to live with that and he doesn’t want to spend his time rotting forgotten in a forest. His undying dream, living on in the music he created - he can not let himself kill his own dreams.

Jaskier can see how Geralt’s eyes are fixed on him - like he will disappear any moment the witcher blinks, like he can’t believe that Jaskier is really here with him right now. If Geralt will ask for his forgivness he will forgive him. If Geralt doesn’t then that will also be fine. (Jaskier was always brilliant at lying to himself.)

„I am sorry.“

Geralt doesn’t eleborate but Jaskier smiles at him and relishes in the bone-deep ache he feels. Feeling something, even longing to go back to the way things were, is better than feeling nothing at all. It means he is still alive.

„Geralt, I can’t— I never—,“ the words tumble out before he can even think about, what he is about to do. Jaskier takes a deep breath, before he starts again. „I don’t die or rather I don’t stay dead. I just wake up again— I knew you needed some space, so I just took a nap, I may have lost track of time and I need to know what year it is— what I might have missed.“

If Geralt doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t show it. But the way the bard looks right now, it seems hard to not to. He also doesn't look angry or annoyed that the bard never told him — Geralt looks more worried right now than anything else.

Jaskier always liked how on point the witcher is. It probably comes with the job. In a handful of minutes Geralt gives him a rundown of the last years. He obviously missed a full-blown war. The Nilfgaardians were defeated at the battle at Sodden Hill and now the next war seems to brew at the shores of the Yaruga. Geralt found his child surprise and during the winters they spend their time training at Kaer Morhen. In the summers Yennefer trains Ciri in Magic, while Geralt had been looking for him. (He feels some almost forgotten sensation crawl trough him at that admission.)

As it is already late in autumn they make their way back to the mountains where Jaskier - if it pleases him - is welcome to join them.

~

As if to proof his point Jaskier dies three times on the path up the mountains. The first time Ciri is so horrified that she starts to scream and he dies immediately again. After that he holds her tight in a reassuring hug, promising her that there isn nothing then can hurt him - and that he will never leave her (or Geralt) again. He knows the princess only for a up to a week now, but he swears to himself that he will protect the girl with everything he has. Geralt’s eyes seem to burn a hole in the back of his skill. Ever since traveling with Geralt again, ever since he met Ciri and saw how protective the witcher is... There is something uneasy wriggling trough his bones - he can feel it. Something, some thoughts or feelings he doesn't dare to examine that are not buried deep enough within him - are trying to break the surface. Jaskier just has to dig that grave inside him a little bit deeper.

~

Jaskier is nervous about meeting the other witchers. Vesimir gives him a look-over before berating Geralt, for not better taking care of his bard. He cut his hair and changed his clothes before the track up the mountains - he looks like he always has. But spending so long slumbering left him a bit slow and rusty. Lambert makes an obscene comment, though he can't pinpoint why he should do so. And Eskel looks surprisingly familiar even if he can’t place him yet.

After they put their packs away and stabled the horses, they sit together for dinner. He introduce himself properly tells the witchers about his refusal for staying dead for good. Starting on a good (honest) note and all that. And maybe the witchers know something about all his undying nonsense. Vesimir strokes his chin, while Lambert calls bullshit. Surprisingly Eskel looks the most like suspicion at him.

„You said you were from Lettenho—Oh — I remember you—" Eskel snaps and then points a finger at him "— You do look like your father somewhat. You were that kid that got sliced open by the Leshen. One of the wolfs had almost rip off your arm completely. It was pretty gruesome."

The memory of how he met the witcher returns to him. While he didn't recall the face of his hero until now - the scar was a dead give away.

Jaskier pales, „I can't really remember how it happened. I didn't think you realized that I _had_ died. But I feel honored - and impressed - that you remember me."

"No, something like that stays in memory. I was on the hunt and suddenly the snooty boy of the viscount gets torn open. I thought I was so _fucked_ because I hadn't noticed that you followed me. But you were just laughing it off, completely covered in blood, not batting an eye about that. And then you were trying to chat my ear off."

Jaskier feels his ears grow red with some embarrassment. That _does_ sound like him. "I was just curious," he mumbles before turning to his friend - just wanting to be a brat.

"See, Geralt, letting me come on hunts with you is completely save."

Geralt hums in an unhappy tone in response but doesn't say anything. For a moment nobody talks, while he can feel Lambert eying him with distrust before Vesimir interrupts the silence.

„Eskel. Didn't you tell me this story, something like sixty or seventy years ago?“

Geralt chokes on his ale, while Ciri lets out a whine how unfair it is that everyone around her is so _old_.

~

The winter passes quickly. Jaskier likes Geralt's family, and while not even Vesimir does now why he doesn't stay dead, it is one of the best winters he had. He can also see that Geralt is really trying to make up for his past behavior. He is soft around the bard. He compliments his music, he smiles at him, and he touches Jaskier more often and lets his hands linger. Also has that snappish temper and the mood swings disappeared. Caring for his daughter, has done wonder for the stoic man - or maybe it's that he and Yennefer have seemed to work out what had troubled them. (Jaskier feels his smile drop) At least the witcher is happy. And speaking of Yennefer — 

When the snow has melted Yennefer takes Ciri for training while they travel together again. Just the two of them. It is almost as it was before.

~

Geralt only reluctantly lets him tag along on his hunts.

"Being immortal doesn't make you immune to pain, Bard.", is all the witcher says on the topic and something cold and freezing rushes trough Jaskier.

Lambert had ask him how dying felt and if it still hurt, when Jaskier had joined the training at Kaer Morhen once (which ended disastrous, by the way). The bard had shrugged and he than had spotted the closed look of something like horror on Geralt's face he had ever seen, as he came to whatever conclusion. But hearing the witcher speak this words aloud between gritted teeth, so many weeks later while implying he wants to keep Jaskier save — that unnamed something that he tried to bury inside him climbs right back out of its grave. Declaring loud and clear what it likes to be called.

He should be touched to have a friend that cares for his wellbeing and worries for him. 

Instead Jaskier stares dumbfounded at the back of Geralt's head. After seventy-eight years of trying to hide parts of himself from the world, after trying to make someone _see_ only the parts of him that he wants others to see, Jaskier realizes that he played that game so well, he didn't even see the rest of himself anymore.

He is a blind idiot. How could he miss something like _that_? And the realization hurts worse than a knife between his ribs.

After _that_ particular door was opened in his mind, he is sure he is going crazy within days. The following weeks he starts to second guess every touch, every eye-contact, every tiniest smile. And even worse - he can't keep his mind from reassessing over twenty years of friendship.

~

They get news from Yennefer. She wants to met up with Geralt so she can introduce the girl to the other sorcerers at Thanedd. And Geralt - like the lovesick fool he is doesn't question what Yennefer is doing, what could happen, just trusting the sorceress beyond reason.

~

While traveling to Gors Velen Jaskier can for the first time give a name to the negative feeling he has for Yennefer:

Plain old _jealousy_.

Geralt eyes him curiously about his change in behavior but never says anything. But Jaskier recognizes now, how ever friendly pat on the shoulder, every _touch_ is now tainted with a deep feeling of longing for _more_.

He tries not to show it, how ever day that they close the distance between the witcher and his witch it hurts a little more.

_Just because he can't die doesn't mean he can't hurt_ , after all.

~

The meeting goes to shit pretty quickly. He tries to find Geralt and Ciri, or even Yennefer but in the chaos at least no-one of the sorceress seems to notice the bard that dies a handful of times. That doesn't make his worry any easier. After all the witcher and the girl are mortal.

~

The next following months he wears himself so thin with worry that sometimes he thinks, _'This is it. This is how I kneel over and die for good.'_

_~_

Jaskier has the habit of humming to himself when he is nervous. Right now he could sing his complete repertoire and it still wouldn't shoot his nerves. After all no one has stept into Bokolin forest and survived.

He does.

After five arrows pierce him like he is the pincushion his tailor uses, the dryads lower their bows. He sings a pretty song for them and only than they let him pass.

Geralt does seem relieved to see him, but the tension in his neck doesn't loosen, his spine is stiff and there is nothing Jaskier's can do to make this right. But he can do the same thing he always has.

Following his witcher and being his friend. He thinks back to their first meeting, and figures that he was right. He will never be able to walk away from Geralt, and the witcher will never get rid of him.

How he could never truly understand before, what he seems to grasp right from the start bemuse him. It is not his choice anymore -

He will follow Geralt like he has for years. If trough countless hunts or from war-torn battlefields dos not matter in the long run to him. After all he is all Geralt has left now - and putting his personal feelings aside, Geralt needs a _friend_.

He will stay.

~

He can't stay any longer. 

Months of tracking down an illusion has him wrung out. When they reach Toussaint and finally take a break, Jaskier's worry over Geralt spikes.

Something like dread settles. Ciri is _gone_. And Geralt may not survive when he finally accepts that truth and the grieve will eat away at him. 

Or maybe now the Witcher will finally confront reality and will learn to live with it. Jaskier can only stay close and give support to his friend. He feels the deep tiredness again in his bones. He uses the duchess as a nice distraction from his worries. 

But then Geralt starts to takes on hunts again and Jaskier can breath again. The witcher is still restless and clearly wrestling with himself, but he slowly starts to resemble the person he once was. And when Geralt will decide he wants to return to the path he will be there for him and support the witcher.

It doesn't come to that.

Geralt relapses into his fantasies and Jaskier is just so _tired_ of it all. For a fleeting moment he thinks how nice it would be to disappear and lie down somewhere where nobody could find him — but his way of dealing with tragic events is not better than Geralt’s.

When Geralt does want to leave again he confronts him. He never thought he would ever be able to stay behind again. But that was before his witcher seemed to disappear alongside Ciri. He will not follow any longer because he refuses to witness how chasing that specific illusion kills the witcher. He also made himself a promise - he will not let his affections for Geralt be the reason he gets dragged down with him. He will not follow Geralt on the path of self-destruction.

Jaskier is seventy-nine when he learns that one can mourn for other people who are still alive.

~

Jaskier gets hanged. Somehow this is a novelty. Because he was never hanged before, and it is the first time that more than a handful of people witness his death. Until now he always could laugh it off if something strange happend, when he did never have a scratch despite some blood. He had a good run until now. As soon as his executors will realize what happened, they will call for a sorcerer, who will want to see what is wrong with him.

Yennefer told him sometimes in the past how much she would like to figure him out. In the end she never did anything. 

The people watching his execution are whispering between them, while he gasps for air. But his long-lived lucky strike didn't run out when a messenger from the duchess arrives, telling the executor to release him immediately.

He breaths deeply and then gets really surprised when he finds himself in a tight embrace from the girl he believed dead. He gives a watery smile to Geralt over her shoulder clutching her even tighter to him, laughter bubbling in the back of his throat. 

There is a fond expression in Geralts golden eyes and Jaskier wonders if now, that Geralt found his daughter again, everything can _finally_ turn back the way it was.

When they leave the duchy he notices that none of their other friends are with them — Jaskier will spend the appropriate time to mourn and honor their memories.

Maybe he should stop mourning people, who are still alive and spend as much time with them as long as he is able to.

~

Like always in his life, if he thinks that things are looking up again, he finds out that _destiny_ or whatever horse-shit is a _fucking bitch_ that likes to torture him with her cruelness.

Jaskier barely turned eighty when Geralt dies. He gets killed in the riots in Rivia, alongside the witcher. But while he is quickly back on his feet, Geralt stays down, the life slowly bleeding out of him. Yennefer and Triss try to help him, but there is nothing to be done. 

In the end Ciri takes Yennefer, who collapsed alongside Geralt and his witcher away with her. 

He stays left behind. Maybe _that_ is his lot in life — not being forgotten, but still remaining.

He can’t decide whats worst.

A sob works itself free from the back of his throat, while Triss is openly crying and Zoltan claps his shoulder in a tight grip.

_Fuck_.

He never told Geralt, what the witcher meant to him. He isn’t even sure if he could ever find words to express it — but after close to three decades of knowing Geralt he never really tried. And he should have. Because Geralt deserved to hear it, how amazing, how great, how important he was to Jaskier. He deserved everything, and Jaskier was willing to give it to him, even if he only ever wanted his friendship. 

But know he will never have the chance to say all this to his witcher. 

Jaskier is barely eighty and a part of him died alongside with Geralt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm sad :'(


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs heavily* 
> 
> I am so so sorry, that I took so long to update - but life has a nice way of throwing stones at you, and the last few weeks at work kept me busy.
> 
> While the story was already close to completion when I started to upload, I still need to edit the chapters, so anyone can read my gibberish.
> 
> As an apology you can have a bit of fluff alongside with your angst.
> 
> I feel like this chapter is such a mess, and nothing I did made it better - but I still like it anyhow. I hope you all enjoy it too.
> 
> Have fun :)

~

He is eighty-three when he meets Geralt again. The witcher can't remember him and now he has the conformation that being forgotten is definitely not worse than staying behind.

But that doesn't stop the imaginary knife twisting in his ribs.

He hugs Geralt and cries softly on his shoulders, where the witcher eyes him with something like confusion. It doesn't matter. Geralt lives and even if he will never remember him he will always be his friend.

~

Jaskier is torn between going back to the way things were, and following Geralt, or staying away. He learned that both options seem to hurt him in one way or another. He is just so wary and no matter how he chooses his heart is always heavy and on its way to be broken.

Maybe he needs a fresh start. The years where he thought Geralt was dead were harsh. (And looking back he feels kind of an asshole for wanting Geralt to get over Ciri’s presumed dead as fast as possible.) Loosing the witcher was too much. He promised himself he wouldn’t let Geralt hurt him again — promised himself he would’t let Geralt get too close to him again — but the witcher needed a friend, and like an idiot Jaskier forgot all his promises, jumping head-first into the danger after the witcher, forgiving him all his wrongdoings. 

But now, with Geralt not even remembering him, maybe he can take a big step back, be supportive in his friends life but not get involved. (Jaskier knows he will forfeit this promise too, in some foreseeable future.)

~

And then he meets Priscilla. She is not the witcher, but it’s the first time he can see himself staying with one person indefinitely. She is witness to one of his accidents and way too smart to see that something is not normal about him, when he tries to make excuses.

He tells her everything. It feels good to have someone else lending him an ear. She listens and asks questions and then treats him, as she had before. Somehow he knows that he could have _this_. Another person whom he can grow close to — with whom he can share his life with. Maybe that is the third option he was too blind to see until now. 

He knows that he never wanted to give the witcher so much power over him — but he does it again and again. And now he can take that power back and instead let another person enter his heart and mend it as much as possible.

~

„And you never told your witcher how you feel?“ Priscilla asks him and he looks at her like she is mad.

„No — That wouldn’t change anything. He has the insane sorceress bound to him — like that’s supposed to be romantic.“ 

Jaskier sights dramatically, while she plays with the hair on his chest. They lay curled up together in bed, enjoying the closeness, talking about anything and nothing at all. He love how open he can be around her. How she seems to understand him, like nobody else ever had before. 

„Maybe you should tell him. So you will be able to let it go and move on.“

He scoffs at her thoughts immediately. But... would he? Be able to move on? Did he even try to do so until now— and if he tried — would he be able to?

When he thought Geralt had died, he cried ugly tears over the fact that he would never be able to tell Geralt. But now that Geralt is alive, the thought of telling the witcher, makes him feel paralyzed with fear. 

Maybe he never tried to tell Geralt _because_ that would mean he could let the witcher finally go. Jaskier still doesn’t feel ready for this.

Maybe she is right, and that's why he needs to do so.

~

When he meets Geralt the next time, his memories have returned. He tells the witcher he will stay in Novigrad. Just because he is _only_ Geralt’s friend doesn’t mean, he can not be with other people. He doesn’t say this to his witcher. Instead he tells Geralt that he wants to get on with his life, staying in one place for a while — that being on his own for the last years made him realize that he can not spend his life trailing behind him. Somehow it’s the opposite from what he _wants_ or even needs to say. But he is firm in his resolve from staying away and giving himself a chance at being happy without Geralt.

Geralt lays a heavy hand on his shoulder and he looks like he wants to say something important, something that would probably change Jaskier’s mind — but he never does.

~

It's completely by accident that he met Whoreson Senior. He is walking down the streets minding his own business, when he finds himself suddenly in the middle of a gang fight. 

Whorson doesn't stop laughing, when he finds the bard cowering in the narrow ally, fresh specks of blood on his fine clothes glinting like rubies — between all the corpses — but not batting an eye at any of them.

"You are a bard?" He ask eying his lute.

"You should play at the Rosemary and Thyme."

He doesn't know why he accepts. Anyone involved with the gangs of Novigrad counts as dangerous.

But he does, and he plays, and Whoreson Senior is so impressed with him that he becomes his sponsor and later even gifts him the whole tavern.

~

Jaskier turns eighty-seven when he meets Ciri again. She became a fine young lady and he is delighted to see how much Geralt did right by her. When she tells him of the trouble she is in, he does everything to help her.

They spend days carefully planing the heist together. There is nothing he wouldn't do for the girl. Not because Geralt will wring his head if he lets anything happen to Ciri, but because he cares deeply about her too.

~

Getting caught and thrown into prison is something he should have foreseen. He dies several times from several wounds. If the guard notice or even care he can't say.

In the end it is Geralt that saves him again, after a spectacular rescue mission. He tries to stop his heart from fluttering at the thought that the witcher will still always save him when he is in need.

Geralt cuts down his capturers and removes the gag in his mouth. There is then a moment when they are staring at each other. Unspoken years of affection clearly between them. Jaskier is not sure how he must look right now, after spending weeks (not that he had any measure of time) in a prison-cell. But he is sure Geralt saw him in worse condition.

"See Geralt, I told you I always turn up fine. But thank you anyway for the rescue."

" _Damn_ it Jaskier, Just because you will be fine doesn't give you a free-pass to get yourself in trouble."

Geralt is angry. The soft moment is broken when he roughly removes the binds from his hands. Jaskier feels all warm for a moment, at the typical behavior of the witcher, before stamping the feelings down again. Geralt is his _friend_ , of course he is worried about him - and angry when the bard is so careless with his life.

After that, his only interest is finding Ciri, and Jaskier has some sense of déjà vu.

The witcher who is running again after his daughter, when he decides he has to stay behind with a lover of his. But Jaskier will not do this again. Geralt _can't_ die again, even if he knows that sooner or later his time will come, the bard doesn't think he will ever be ready when it does. 

Maybe it is time to prepare for that eventually. He thinks back on how he felt, when he thought Geralt died. How much he wanted Geralt to know about his feelings, but put it off ever since he got that chance back. He also thinks about Priscilla’s words to him and he makes himself a promise. If Geralt finds his daughter, he will tell him of his undying devotions. Maybe then it will not hurt so much to let him go.

~

Despite Geralt’s priority of finding Ciri, he shows that he is a true friend when Priscilla gets attacked. Jaskier wants to scream at the unfairness of life. Just when he thought he could settle down and build a life away from his witcher - it gets torn from his hands. Does Geralt even know how hard this is on him?

He just can't outrun this can he? He will always be dependent in one form or another on the witcher. But Geralt does not even bat an eye when Jaskier tells him he wants revenge on the murderer - does everything in his power to find and end him.

He comes back two days later and tells him that he completed the thing Jaskier ask of him. The bard smiles grimly. Geralt ask how Priscilla outlook is.

"She will be fine eventually."

"Will _you_ be?" Geralt asks him, brow furrowed.

He won't. Jaskier just wants to hug Geralt tightly and tell him how grateful he is - how much he appreciates their friendship. Put right now Priscilla is more important.

"Go. Find your daughter," he says instead when he sees Geralt hesitate.

~

He notices Priscilla heard everything when she reaches for his hand and squeezes softly.

"It's okay."

He voice is mangled and hoarse and he feels the tears well again in his eyes. 

What a horrible man must he be when his girlfriend almost died and he can't stop wallowing in self-pity. He doesn't deserve her. 

Maybe he does deserve everything that had happened to him.

It is definitely _not_ okay.

~

He feels even worse when she is the one to let him down. She says she doesn't want to burden him any further, that it's a kindness to him - like he is the one that was the victim, and cruel Melitele that _hurts_. He stays with her while she thankfully recovers. Maybe it was foolish to think he could build a life with her when her body is so fragile while he is free of any scars. (And yet her mind is strong while his feels like it is wearing thin.)

She would grow old and he would stay unchanged.

They always had an expiration date, he realizes.

~

It's weeks later, when everyone meets at his Cabaret. Geralt and him, Ciri - and all their friends. Everyone is busy with their planning to defeat the wild hunt. He curiously ask around and everyone can fill the whole story in with bits and pieces.

He barely remembers his promise to himself at this point. He knows it is not the time and place, but it may be the last chance to come clean to the witcher.

He is relieved when Geralt doesn't seem to want to spend all his remaining time with Yennefer - or even Triss - for whom he has also a bunch of not so nice feelings.

He hadn’t seen Yennefer since that horrible day in Rivia and he is glad that she is fine. The same notion seems to extend to him, because before she was unbearing around him, trying to insult him at every turn, while now she seems to be amused about something.

Whenever she is looking at him, she seems like she is laughing about him and he has no clue what the joke could be. But when he looks questioning at Geralt, the witcher looks sheepish apologetic.

At the same time she makes a wide berth around Geralt, like she wants to put so much space between them as possible - just because she can - which seems strange.

Jaskier is confused. Did something happen between the witcher and his sorceress? Until know every time they met, they were drawn together and anyone else in the same room seised to exist.

It comes to a halt when one night, that while Ciri is talking to the sorceress loge, Geralt softly knocks on his door and fixes him with an unreadable expression.

Jaskier swallows. This is the moment he has been waiting for. The moment that Geralt will say his parting words and thank him in one way or another for their friendship and then he will leave and die fighting for his daughter. Jaskier wants to spill his secrets.

He knows that the last time he thought Geralt died, he regretted not doing it ever since. Until now he was too scared to do so - because like Priscilla pointed out - he would be able to finally let go. But his life is so long - there are a few things he will always end up regretting. And if Geralt lives at the end of this it will never change anything. The witcher will always have his sorceress bound by an ill-timed wish.

The two of them always struggle against it - but ultimately the magic seems stronger.

If Geralt lives he wants to be around him for how long his life allows, in any form that the witcher will have him. Jaskier still, after _every_ thing, wants to cling to that feeling. He is hopeless.

Maybe he shouldn't destroy their possible last moment with the heaviness that has sat on his chest for years.

They look at each other. Jaskier sits on the bed, his lute on his lap and waits for Geralt to say his part. 

"Yen found a djinn in Skellige," the witcher starts and Jaskier is surprised, not having anticipated that bit of information. He must give Geralt a look of bewilderment.

"What had bound us was never real. The magic is gone."

He doesn't know if he should tell Geralt that he knew that already or to offer some consolations that his friend seem to have lost his ill-fitted long-time lover.

Jaskier put the lute down. Now there is nothing to occupy his hands to keep his nerves at bay. He can also only wonder why the witcher would tell him this now, in the moment before everything could turn to shite.

Jaskier - after knowing Geralt for years and years - can read him better than he would have hoped for. The witcher’s eyes hold something like pain, regrets and a bunch of other unnamed feelings. He _knows_ that Geralt doesn't always have the words to speak what he wants to say out loud. Thats why their friendship is so peculiar. Jaskier always knows what to say - how to talk _for_ the witcher when has no words to express himself.

Jaskier won't die - but Geralt _can_. Maybe it is not for his benefit but for the witcher’s. So _he_ is not left with unspoken words and unfulfilled longing. Leaving Jaskier behind without ever telling him - or rather letting Jaskier speak the words that Geralt can't say.

He can feel something fragile in the air - his skin shivers with anticipation.

Or maybe he is about to ruin everything completely when— 

„I am in love with you Geralt."

Geralt hums in affirmation, looking a little bit surprised himself- maybe because he thought that the bard would reject him. Or, again, Jaskier has read Geralt wrong, and he wanted to say something entirely else. But before he can really think about what he has just done— the witcher takes three long steps and Jaskier has barely time to stand up, before he is caught in an openmouthed kiss.

The witcher enwraps him with his arms, holding him like he is something fragile that could _break_ , but still trying to draw him _closer_.

They kiss and kiss and _kiss_ \- and then breathe the shared air for a few more moments. 

"Sorry it took me so long,“ Geralt mumbles into his skin, when kissing his nose, his jaw, his throat— ever inch of him he can reach, never letting his hold on him softening.

Jaskier feels _save_ and protected, like he always does when he is with his witcher. He is used to feeling large - because he has seen so much, been everywhere, lived so long already — has left his traces with his stories, with his songs, everywhere he goes he leaves a part of him behind, interweaves himself into the tapestry of the world —

but right now his world narrows down to the space between Geralt’s arms, and he feels small. Nothing else exists right now and he—he could spend all _eternity_ in those arms.

"Eeh, not like I would have die from waiting." 

Geralt chuckles softly, sending goosebumps over his skin with just that sound, and then lets his hands wander to expose more skin to touch and kiss.

With something like clarity Jaskier _knows_ this was the moment all his life has been building up too. And merciful Melitele all the heartbreak was worth it if he can have just this moment.

There is still so much _wrong_ right now— Anyone of them could die in the following days. Jaskier also needs to spend a few days to process his thoughts, because understanding drawn that Geralt may have always seen him this way, but the _fucking_ magic binding him the the witch prevented him, stings horrible.

And maybe this night is all the two of them will ever have, so he wants to use this gift. The rest of the world will have wait until tomorrow.

~

If you ask Jaskier to describe how his first time with Geralt would be, he could write books, poems, songs - _ballads_ \- about how he imagined it. He could write out every dirty little sound, every filthy look or touch, every spark of nerves that would come alive in great detail. 

Which meant he thought a lot, _really a lot,_ about the Witcher and him ending up in bed. He was filled with _decades_ of shameless fantasies. Every instant where Jaskier helped the Witcher bath, every evening spend around the fire after a long day, sometimes just sitting in a tavern and sharing a meal gave him new material.

Needless to say that when they finally - fucking _fucking finally_ \- did end up together naked, there was no way that his imaginary could ever match up with the real thing. Not because he had so much fantasy built up that he would be left disappointed, it was rather that all his fantasies where utter filth.

But this is real.

Instead he got soft touches and an incredibly sweetness that was so unmistakably _Geralt_. Because for all the guff and hard shell, the man still was a bleeding heart on the inside.

Geralt was kissing him slowly, his faced cupped in his Witcher's big hands. They undress like in a trance and explored each others bodies with shy hands. It was slow, way too slow for what Jaskier normally preferred. He liked it rough, he liked being gripped hard and having marks left to show off for days.

But this was _Geralt_ and it was real.

And that made the slowness all the better for Jasiker.

~

While he waits nervously, he clings to the silver line that destiny _loves_ Geralt. She can't let him die _now_. And especially now that he had a taste and wants even more. 

And even when the sky seems to fall apart he clings to that stupid hope that everything must turn out alright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope I get around to upload the last chapter next weekend  
> *fingers crossed*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is the last chapter and I want to say how much I appreciate every single comment, bookmark or kudo again. You guys made my days, when I felt down due the pandemic-induced shit-show that is the world right now.
> 
> You may have noticed that this is part of a series. I have the next part as a draft finished already, and further installments planed out, but I can't make any promises when it will be done. I am a slow writer but I will try my best.
> 
> So again, have fun :)

~

They met in the tavern in White Orchard when the first snow starts to fall. He can't take his eyes off Geralt now that he is allowed to look. The witcher graces him with a wry smile and he can't be too mad that he wants to spend some time with Ciri. Because he knows later on, they will just fall asleep curled into each other.

~

After the end of the world came and passed and nobody died, life continues. Geralt will go back on the path and he will follow - like in old times, when everything was more simple and at the same time more complicated than it is now.

But before that can happen, Jaskier needs to stay in Novigrad to wrap up some of his unfinished business. Priscilla — who starts to slowly sing again (they both cried happy tears when the doctor allowed her too, and the first note of her voice filled the room) —will take over the management of his cabaret, so he can join Geralt again come next spring.

Geralt wants to stay with him. Something about making up for the lost time or so - but than two knights from Toussaint appear with an important time-pressing contact, and Geralt - like always - can not _not_ get involved. 

Jaskier loves how much of a softy the witcher really is, even if he laments how little time the both of them had, to just be the version of the witcher and his bard, that are in love with each other.

~

He uses that time, to make the Chameleon into a home for all his friends, that feels save for the witchers returning from the path. He knows the cabaret will never replace Kaer Morhen - but since neither of the witchers were keen on returning there for a while, he hopes everyone will spend the cold seasons in Novigrad with him.

~

Weeks later Jaskier has himself almost convinced he only dreamed that Geralt returns his affections, that they fought against the Wild Hunt and defeated the White Frost. His heart aches in the all too familiar way, with how much he misses his witcher.

It is then, that he gets a surprise visit from Regis. He had mourned the Vampire, but is not too surprised— because why should he be the only one that returns from the death (at least Regis undying-ness makes _sense_.)

He doesn't even hear the full story before he lets everything he holds drop and packs in a hurry.

~

When he reaches Toussaint he hopes the duchess doesn't notice his surprise visit.

She _does_ , but she is a way to fickle thing, not able to make up her mind, to do anything about it, while he pleads his case to free the witcher.

Jaskier can't help to feel smug that this time it is him, who gets Geralt out of prison. Geralt's eyes burn with so much emotions right then, that he feels his neck grow red, and his knees weak - but this is neither the time nor place to induce, no matter how much he wants to kiss his witcher silly.

~

Jaskier waits for Geralt at his vineyard (and why the _hell_ does Geralt own a _vineyard_ now?) to finish whatever is going on. He feels there is a big story at play and he can't wait to hear everything from his witcher. Geralt's Majordomo fills him in, with everything he knows, but if he wants to write a song he will need more _details_.

But when Geralt returns, he uses the first opportunity to lift Jaskier off and sits him on to the table (something electrifying runes through his spine at being so easily manhandled). The witcher then steps between his legs and when he proceeds to kiss him senseless, any thought about the _brilliant_ ballad he could write leaves him in an instant.

~

Of course he still dies quite often. 

Ciri is crowned Empress and when during the preparations for the coronation he stumbles down a flight of stairs and breaks his neck, he laughs at his clumsiness for a while, while Geralt seems to be torn between his overprotective worry and his amusement.

Something that has changed is, that while in his younger years his careless behavior lead to some gruesome deaths, Geralt makes sure that the only thing Jaskier dies from is his own stupidity and the random unpredictable things that not even his witcher can foresee.

(Lambert even starts a list with his top ten favorite stupid deaths, and Jaskier starts to place bets with Yennefer, and sometimes Eskel just because they _can_. Geralt glowers at any of them, but then proceeds to hold Jaskier even closer in his sleep after a day where he died — Jaskier doesn’t mind too much that dying hurts physically.)

~

Jaskier turns one hundred and like a gift from destiny herself, he doesn't die for a whole year.

~

They spend years living at the vineyard in Toussaint, which became a home for all their friends and a save place during the winter - like the cabaret in the middle of a bustling city never could hope to be.

He knows they will return to the old keep eventually, but the pestering wound of loosing Vesimir to the Wild Hunt is still too fresh.

~

Life can be simple and nice, but boredom and spending, so much time with one person in close proximity is bound to let them go stir crazy.

And after all the bliss and happiness he feels for _finally_ being with the love of his life, makes room for routine and the daily life again, he gets restless, because he is still the same bard that wants to travel the world and write his songs and Geralt is still the same grumpy witcher that never uses his words and always gets involved.

And just because the dynamic of the relationship he has with his witcher changed for the better (so _so_ much better), it doesn't erase all the years of _hurt_.

In his long life he died repeatedly, sometimes brutally. He got betrayed by people he thought were his friends. Got once blamed for all the things that were wrong in Geralt's life in the most cruel way, saw his friends die or get hurt, all the way while nursing his own heartbreak— so staying in one place with a person that has contributed in some ways to this hurt, makes Jaskier feel cagey. 

And he is not the only one of the two, who carries these raw feelings and scars with him. And while Geralt's scars are different, they run no less deep than his own.

It will take time to heal these wounds destiny has imposed on either of them.

And sometimes the need for space— for taking a step back, becomes overwhelming.

(And this need makes the unavoidable reunion even more _sweeter_.)

~

Jaskier spends some years in Novigrad, always returning to the city, or he is traveling looking for inspiration, writing new music and Geralt takes up contacts that suit him, or he grows wine, or spend time with his empress-daughter.

And while both of them have found a home in each other, a lot of year pass so quickly that way, that Jaskier is surprised to realize he sometimes hasn't seen Geralt in multiple years.

But above all that, the love he feels for his witcher never diminishes, even with time and continents distancing them. 

~

The world crashes around him, when Priscilla, his dear friend, is growing older, and older, and while he spends a long time with her, she ultimately leaves him too.

The thought that Geralt will do the same eventually, is suddenly back on the forefront of his mind. Knowing that Geralt will one day not be fast enough, not strong enough, stays with him, like a festering wound that will never close.

Jaskier is so old by now, that at that point he feels so stupid that he held onto so much hurt, when all he ever wanted, was to _be_ with Geralt. 

He returns to his witcher and this time it is easy to stay. He lets the love he feels overwrite the bitterness that sometimes seem to swallow him whole. And the more years pass, the things that mattered once, become unimportant.

Because why should some angry words, some hurt feelings or broken bones from fifty— hundred — two-hundred years ago have the right to impact the happiness he feels every single day?

But no matter how far or near he is to his witcher at any time, one thing always rings true:

Because he was right the first time he laid eyes on Geralt -- the witcher is his undoing, binding him with tight robes of destiny and he will follow for all eternity.

~

~

~

Jaskier is fumbling with his phone. It is the best invention since cars in his opinion. The opportunity to be on the other side of the continent in days, is amazing, even if it is not as convenient as portals. But who has a sorceress every-time on hand.

No — scratch that. Youtube is the best invention of the last century. All the music, so much of it with just one click — it is mind-blowing.

But sometimes, all this new stuff _sucks_.

It rings.

Once. Twice.

"Fucker," he mumbles, when Geralt doesn't pick up. Why did he think the witcher would be able to manage all this ' _technological nonsense_ ', is beyond him. He is just too old, and grumpy that he doesn't get the world anymore.

It goes to mailbox. Of fucking course.

"Oh great. The only time in my _whole_ life that I need you, you don't _fucking_ pick up to help me. 

Just for head-ups, it is not my fault that I am on the fucking news, because everyone has a phone these days, and thinks they are creative artists that publishes content, just because they have to press a button and then have a shaky video stored somewhere in the cloud.

And yes, _dear_ , I don't just create these words to _annoy_ you. All this things really _exist_. Get your head out of your arse and go with the times—

And call me back... If you figure out how the mailbox works."

Jaskier sights heavily and leans on the wall behind him. He loves all this new stuff— the interesting fashion, the changes in music and the comforts the technological developments of the last hundred years bring. But hiding some secrets - like immortality - becomes more difficult.

(Maybe he should have done what Yennefer told him to, and claimed to be some sorcerer. It's not like anyone could disprove this.) Oh well, never too late for that.

It is not even that he minds that everyone now knows about his.... alignment. Getting renowned is after all something that he wants. Though it would have been better to get known for his music instead of... _that_.

Anyway, what should anyone do with the information, that there is some guy out there, that gets up again after getting shot and clearly bleeding to death?

Kidnap him and conduct experiments on him?

Good luck wakening the ire of his bitchy sorceress friend and his overprotective grumpy witcher boyfriend — not to mention the rest of their small family.

No, he wouldn’t necessarily mind, but said overprotective witcher wanted Jaskier to be save, and convinced him that hiding was the safest option — which is ultimately really sweet.

Jaskier drops his phone in surprise when a portal opens up and Yennefer steps out with all the flourish only she can manage. She does know how to make a big entrance.

„Really?“, she asks him with a raised brow.

He grins shrewdly, and shrugs his shoulders. The sorceress pinches her eyebrows.

„Geralt almost jumped head-first into the portal. How should I know you would be so _smart_ to hide in a backstreet alley. I didn’t want the risk of Geralt causing even more a scene.“

He ignores her small barb at his intelligence— she is right of course. Geralt would have made the matter worse if he showed up and Jaskier was still somewhere near the store. While it is nice that his witcher is concerned about him, Yennefer knows how to keep a cool head in any situation. (And maybe he should have called her instead, because she knows how phones _work_ for Meliteles sake. But trust her to keep tracks on him, to find him wherever he may end up.)

Yennefer beckons with her hand, before ushering him trough the portal and out of the ally, giving him one last hard look. Again — nothing of this is his _fault_.

How should he have known some stupid guy with a gun was deciding to rob some store and was so fidgety that he accidental shot Jaskier. It was just pure luck that nobody else was hurt. And while Jaskier was slowly bleeding out, people started to make a fuss about him, while he tried to bat their helpful (prying) hands away.

Then he blacked out for a moment (he died) and the next thing he becomes aware of is the sound of sirens. Someone had called an ambulance and the police is already at the scene arresting the guy.

There was a really awkward moment when the paramedics arrived, and his wound had already closed again. They of course tried to prop at him (completely shocked and overwhelmed)— but no, thank you very much — Jaskier used the confusion, jumped up and started to _run_.

He sprinted as fast as he could, ran for what felt like hours, and stopped only when the burn he felt in his lungs made him feel like collapsing. He stepped aside into the ally — still heaving heavily — and gave himself a moment to let everything crash around him.

For a moment he thinks back, centuries ago, when he was hanged on the orders of the duchess, and how he thought the knowledge would impact his life. Jaskier has honestly no idea what would happen now — Geralt had made sure that he was save, and his secret protected until now.

But they _knew_ … they _saw_ him die and come back to life again — and fuck — he is pretty convinced he saw some people in the background playing around with their phones.

He breathed trough the incoming panic when he started to fumble for his phone with shaky hands. And… the video of him bleeding out and healing himself is _trending_. That's awfully quick (and seriously _rude_ to film a dying man). It blew up as soon as someone uploaded it. With an hysteric laughter Jaskier notes that it is the first time something of his has gone viral and it’s not even music. That sucks. He takes a deep breath, grounds himself again, and then starts to click on Geralt’s contact info, which brings him to the point where Yennefer showed up.

When stepping out of the portal Geralt is already waiting, walking up and down hacking angrily on his phone, like he can figure it out just by staring at it and smashing some random buttons. Jaskier thinks it's kind of adorable. He looks up as soon as he hears them.

"So dear Witcher, what should we do? I opt for ignoring it, it will blow over and next week most will believe it was only a PR stunt for the jewelry-store. _‚Our products are to die for,'_ or something like that. I think we should—"

Geralt grabs his face and kisses him roughly and then looks for any other sign of injury— It’s like the witcher can still not believe, that after hundred of years Jaskier will turn up fine. Yennefer sights dramatically.

“—I think we should get some costumes and start to play superheroes for some while… I already have the designs. That would be fun."

He grins when he sees Geralts bewildered face. The sorceress is crackling, while waving her hand as a farewell — having delivered Jaskier— and then disappearing in the same dramatic fashion like she came in.

"Can't you take that serious? What where you even doing there?" Geralt asks grumpy.

Jaskier smiles brightly, rummage trough his pack and hands Geralt a box. The witcher stares at it confused, before his eyes snap back to him, understanding drawn.

"I know you want to ask me. I will of course say yes after leaving you sweating for a moment, and I will love the ring you will give me. It will be the most romantic thing I have ever planed for you to surprise me with. Get the details from Triss or Eskel."

He smiles sweetly at Geralt. Because if one thing has not changed after close to seven hundred years, Jaskier still is able to read his darling witcher and knows what he wants to say even if he has no words for it. They never talked about it and why should they. It is not as if they need proof for the way they are already bound to each other. But after so long together it feels weird to call Geralt his 'boyfriend' like it is a passing fancy. Not like there are any other words to describe what the two of them are.

Through it should’t matter, because Geralt still calls him the bane of his existence in front of other people. 

"Hm. I already knew that once you started following me, I would never be able to get rid of you again...

So what was it— after death do us part?“

Jaskier grins even brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this - I hope you enjoyed it too.  
> Thank you for reading <3  
> (For anyone interested, this story was heavily inspired by the Netflix Movie 'The Old Guard‘— which is amazing.)


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